


buff boy brew

by tootsonnewts



Series: a universe of brews [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, M/M, Voltron is a bar, brewery au, happy birthday lil fella!, keith is an endless antagonist, lance is still a shit, shiro is doomed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 15:58:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13838154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tootsonnewts/pseuds/tootsonnewts
Summary: Shiro feels himself relax by degrees. If Keith agreed with it, then he really doesn’t have much to worry about. Except, now that he thinks about it, the memories of the original craft month come rushing back. The flavors, the special day of each week they were served, the names.The names.“Lance. Are the names staying the same?”Lance goes stock-still.“If it ain’t broke, am I right?”the team of voltron brewery decide to celebrate shiro's birthday the only way they know how.





	buff boy brew

**Author's Note:**

> surprise!  
> i wanted to write a follow-up piece to [keith's special flavahhh](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12892890), and shiro's birthday is the perfect chance!
> 
> enjoy!

“I wanna bring craft month back.”

Shiro feels more than sees the whole room turn at Lance’s words.

“Why? You tryna get a girlfriend?” Keith asks, standing up from where he was bent behind the bar. Shiro snorts softly into his glass.

“Puh _lease_ , mullet. We all know that only worked for Shiro.”

“Oh snap,” Hunk whispers softly.

“Hey, Lance?” Keith drawls with a sweet smile. “When you wake up in the middle of the night with me perched on your chest holding a knife to your throat, you just remember this moment.”

“Aww, buddy, you don’t have to go through all that trouble just to sit on my chest!”

Shiro clears his throat.

“Not that I have any say in the matter, but why do you want to bring craft month back? I thought it was a one time thing?”

“Yes, my dearest muscle man. It was,” he answers. “But I’ve been thinking we could make it a special yearly event. It was super popular, anyway. We made a killing those nights.”

“That’s true,” Pidge agrees, looking up from her laptop. “We made almost twice our usual profit from them. And I know the flavors were big hits with everyone.”

“Exactly!” Lance says, a sharp gleam in his eye. “And anyway Shiro, isn’t your birthday coming up?”

“Well, yeah,” Shiro answers, a stirring of suspicion blooming in his gut. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

“I mean, you and Keith have been together for almost a year now, right? And it really doesn’t seem to any of us like you’re going anywhere anytime soon, especially if our little emo boy has anything to say about it.”

“Fuck off, Lance,” Keith pipes up.

“ _Anyway_ , I was thinking we might bring craft night back and add a fifth flavor for you! As a birthday gift and an official symbol of you joining the family!” Lance looks pleased with himself. He looks excessively pleased with himself. Shiro knows something’s up, but he can’t quite place his finger on what it is. He thinks about calling Lance out. The thought strikes him like a bolt of lightning. In his mind’s eye, he sees himself revealing Lance’s true intentions and then body slamming him for them. Not a heavy body slam. A light one. Just, gently picking him up and casually throwing him on the ground. No big deal.

“Lance, I don’t work here,” he settles for reminding him.

“Mmmmyes, but you _do_ work _here_ ,” he says, gesturing to Keith with a thumb.

“Lance, I swear to god!” Keith shouts and launches himself over the counter. Lance cackles into the darkened tap room and takes off running toward the back office, yelling over his shoulder on his way.

“I have your flavor all picked out already, Shiro! You’re gonna love it!”

Keith shoves him in the room and the door snaps decisively shut behind them.

Shiro forgets all about it until Lance approaches him again one night, leaning casually against the table he’s seated at while he waits for Keith’s shift to end.

“So. Shiro. My man. My buddy. My guy. My dude. My-”

“Please stop.”

“Bro.”

“Are you done?”

Lance quirks an eyebrow and sets a contemplative finger to his chin. He taps against it a few times before letting out a soft breath.

“Yeah, I think so. But I come bearing wonderful news!”

“Oh?” Shiro asks, raising a brow of his own. “And what is that?”

“We started brewing for craft nights today!”

“Lance, that’s great!” Shiro answers with a smile. “I almost forgot you were doing those again.”

“Yup,” Lance confirms, popping the p harshly. “Did you also forget you were getting your own?”

A shroud of concern comes rushing back to lay over Shiro’s shoulders. He can feel his face darken as his eyebrows draw together. Lance kicks a nervous toe against the ground, squirming under Shiro’s gaze.

“You don’t need to worry, big man. It’s actually a really good flavor. Everyone agreed it suits you. Even Keith.”

Shiro feels himself relax by degrees. If Keith agreed with it, then he really doesn’t have much to worry about. Except, now that he thinks about it, the memories of the original craft month come rushing back. The flavors, the special day of each week they were served, the names. _The names._

“Lance. Are the names staying the same?”

Lance goes stock-still.

“If it ain’t broke, am I right?”

“Is it still going to be called Keith’s Special Flavahhh? Because, Lance, that was-”

“That was the flavor that got you a girlfriend, remember?!”

“Lance. Dude.”

“Okay, sorry, that was gross. But yeah, man. You can’t make a tradition if you change the parts of the tradition you’re trying to make!”

He does have a point. And Keith did agree with bringing craft month back just as equally as everyone else agreed. It’s just that Shiro remembers how hard Keith got harrassed last year, and even though Shiro has become somewhat of a fixture at Voltron Brewery, it doesn’t necessarily mean the trend won’t continue. Also, now that he thinks about it-

“Lance.”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“What are you naming my flavor?”

Silence.

Shiro looks back at where Lance was standing just a moment ago to find empty air. He spins back around to face the tap room proper, only to catch a glimpse of Lance’s legs as he escapes to the office.

“Anyway, it was great talking to you, pal! See ya!”

“Lance!”

“Trust me, you don’t wanna know,” Keith’s voice pipes up from behind him. Shiro spins to find his boyfriend, arms crossed over his chest with an amused smirk painted across soft lips. “You’ll shit.”

“Goddammit,” Shiro sighs.

“It’ll be okay. You have over a month to brace yourself.”

With that, Keith takes Shiro by the elbow and drags him home for the night.

Craft month returns in a rush with all the excitement and prestige of the previous year’s event. People pile in each Thursday to taste their favorite brews one more time, and enjoy snacks from the food trucks Hunk had arranged to park out front of the brewery. Patrons swirl in and out, playing party games and checking out the dogs a few stray folks brought with them. Making craft nights dog-friendly was a stipulation set forth by Pidge, and it worked out brilliantly. Turns out people love holding dogs while they drink beer. Who knew?

Each Thursday is full of celebration and mirth, the specialty flavor selling out way before any of their permanent brews. Shiro forgets all of his nerves about what trick Lance is going to pull on him right up until he finds himself pushing into the bar on the final Thursday of the event.

He’s running a little late, having gotten caught up with some paperwork at the office, so the tap room is already full when he strolls in. Before he’s even able to look up from the door, a wall of sound greets him. _Heyyyyyy_ ’s and _It’s him!_ ’s slam into Shiro at full force, and he looks up, meeting Keith’s eye quizzically, as he regards him from the bar. Shiro smiles blandly and says casual hello’s as he pushes his way over to peck Keith’s cheek over the counter.

“Hey there, birthday boy,” Keith mumbles. “Or, should I say-”

His voices fades away into oblivion once Shiro’s sight catches on the chalkboard over the back of the bar.

**Today’s Signature Brew:**

**SHIRO’S BUFF (birthday) BOY BREW**

**a maple coffee cream ale**

“ _Keith,_ ” Shiro wheezes.

“I know, baby,” he answers, patting his shoulder and sliding him a glass. “If it helps, it’s delicious. Lance really outdid himself. He wanted to impress you.”

“What?” Shiro asks, snapping his head around to watch Lance flit around the room.

“Yeah, dude. He’s got this whole, weird, hero-worship thing going on with you. How have you not noticed?”

Truthfully, Shiro never has. He’ll blame it on his singular, Keith-centered focus.

“I guess I’m always too busy looking at you,” he says before he can control his brain-to-mouth filter.

Keith’s face melts in the way it only ever does for him. He reaches out across the bar, setting a gentle palm against Shiro’s jaw.

“You’re getting laid for that later, just so you know.”

Shiro snorts harshly, turning his face to kiss Keith’s palm.

“I’m so glad my lack of awareness gets me rewards. How’s tonight going?”

“You’re super popular. When we first opened, Lance drew a little muscley stick figure on the sign, but it looked weird so I made him take it down. If I estimate correctly, we’ll sell out of yours faster than any of the others.”

Shiro’s brain plummets to his feet.

“ _Seriously?_ ”

He glances around the bar, watching people sip at glasses of beer, trying to suss out which is which as they drink. He hadn’t been told what his flavor was or been allowed to try it beforehand. The whole thing was shrouded in mystery, just the same as with everyone else’s flavors. Lance is nothing if not theatrical.

Shiro picks up the glass before him and takes a sip. It’s _incredible_. Warm and smooth, with the loveliest hint of maple and coffee on the back of his tongue. They were right, this suits him just fine. Keith eyes him heavily as he drinks, pretending to wipe the same spot of the counter over and over. This, Shiro suspects, is just so he can watch his throat work. Keith has never minced his appreciation for that particular part of Shiro’s body.

“You know what my favorite thing about this flavor is?” Keith asks, breaking Shiro’s reverie. He isn’t looking at Shiro. Rather, he’s watching a customer walk up to the counter warily. She glances between Keith and Shiro cautiously on her approach.

“Is this him?” she asks Keith.

“The very one,” he answers with smothered amusement.

“Happy birthday, Shiro,” she says shyly in his direction.

“Thank you,” Shiro means to answer, but bends the end upward, turning it into more of a question than anything.

“Can I have one of the specials?” she asks Keith. He nods, grabbing a glass and filling it. As he hands it over to her, she looks nervously at Shiro and bends over the counter, whispering something to Keith. His face lights up, shining under the warm bulbs hanging over the bar, as he belly laughs, deep and snorting.

“You’ll have to find that out for yourself,” he answers, sliding the glass the rest of the distance across the counter in exchange for her credit card. “You wanna start a tab?”

“Uh, no. I think one is enough.”

Keith snorts hard again.

“If you say so.”

She takes her receipt and ambles off awkwardly, joining a table of women, chattering and giggling as she animatedly talks and gestures back at the bar.

“What the hell was all that about?” Shiro demands.

“Well,” Keith begins, leaning across the bar, sharp chin settled in a palm, “do you remember last year? When I told you all about what people kept asking me about my flavor?”

Shiro smirks and leans forward, hovering a little bit away from Keith’s face.

“I did find out what made it so special.”

“Eww,” Keith answers, flicking his forehead. “Anyway, you were late getting here, so you missed most of it, but I’ve been getting questions about _your_ flavor all night.”

Keith’s expression turns wicked, eyes gleaming and dangerous.

“One question in particular.”

His face is predatory, sharp and knowing, calculated in the way he holds his mouth slightly pursed, the way his eyebrows tighten just the slightest bit. Shiro knows to fear this expression. He sees it every time Keith makes a decision to destroy him. Keith leans forward across the counter, settling a hand back on Shiro’s jaw. He smiles, his lightly pointed canines catching a plush bottom lip. Shiro can only stare, watching his approach like so much a bunny before a wolf. He should turn tail and run as far away as possible, but he can’t. He’s pinned under the electric gaze and suddenly terrified. He can smell the danger like a tang on the wind. It tangles his nerves, ensnares his senses. Keith knows it. His smile widens, knife sharp and ready to deliver the death blow. He tugs Shiro closer, cocking an eyebrow as he draws his mouth up next to an earlobe for a rumbling whisper.

“ _What makes the boy so buff?_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> come on down and see me on [tumblr](http://tootsonnewts.tumblr.com/) & [twitter](https://twitter.com/these_mortals)! i'd love to say hello!
> 
> have a great day, and godspeed on season 5!!!


End file.
